


We Should Do that Again

by BoneDaddy



Series: Commission Fics [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, M/M, Mild Degradation, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Rare Pairings, Rope Bondage, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Toys, Vibrators, mild edging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26155900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoneDaddy/pseuds/BoneDaddy
Summary: This is a commission fic for Ask-Smokescreen on Tumblr. It contains heavy headcanons regarding Tarn's berthroom activities, mostly him being an attentive dom.
Relationships: Tarn/ Smokescreen
Series: Commission Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899364
Kudos: 22





	We Should Do that Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ask-Smokescreen](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ask-Smokescreen).



> This work is unbeta'd. We die like men.

“Is that too tight?”

Soft pants filled the air, accompanied by the sound of cooling fans working on a low setting to keep a little speedster’s frame cool.

“No.”

“No,  **what?** ” The change in pitch from the large Decepticons voice had Smokescreen arching against his binds, errant trickles of charge raced through his frame between his plating and protoform.

“No  _ sir _ .” He panted and squirmed. His arms had been tied behind his back with his arms holding his elbows. He was knelt on a soft mat, elevated on a table, with his legs forced apart by a spreader bar. Intricate lines of silicone covered steel rope were tied over his thighs and up the middle of his frame. The cherry on top was a black silk blindfold tied securely over Smokescreen’s optics. All in all, the little speeder was certainly a sight to behold. Tarn was rather pleased with his work as he circled him, his field was predatory and thick.

“ **Excellent** .” The voice, now behind him, sent another sharp charge of pleasure running through the Autobot’s systems. The distinct click of Smokescreen’s valve panel sliding back filled the air and the DJD leader tutted lightly. “I didn’t give you permission to open your panel yet Smokescreen. Come now, I know you know how to follow basic commands.  **_Close it_ ** _. _ ” The command didn’t send nearly as much charge through him this time, Tarn wasn’t  _ that _ cruel.

A soft whimper came from the kneeling Autobot as he commanded his panel closed, it was a struggle and he arched again.

“There’s a good mech. Now, before we continue, I need you to tell me what you say if you want to stop.” Tarn’s voice was still behind him, closer this time, causing him to turn his head a little. Smokescreen jumped a little as something soft and supple stroked down his back and over his aft. He swallowed thickly before speaking.

“‘Red’ if I need you to stop the scene immediately. ‘Yellow’ if I need you to d-OH!” The sharp crack of a leather crop landed over his aft.

“‘Yellow if’? Go on pet.”

“‘Y-yellow’ if I need you to c-change the scene up, and ‘green’ when I’m ready to continue.” He squirmed again and vented deeply to calm himself down.

“And your emergency word?”

“‘North’”

“Very good pet. Are you ready to start then?” Tarn’s voice was in front of him now, Smokescreen’s helm snapped forward and he nodded enthusiastically.

“Primus, yes! Please Tarn.”

“Ah ah,” The crop landed harshly on his thigh plating.

“Sir! Ah, Please  _ sir. _ ” Smokescreen was quick to correct himself. Tarn’s wry smile would be missed due to that blindfold. Wordlessly he moved around him to the other side, stroking a servo over his middle. The unexpected touch had the white mech lurching away for a split second before he returned, chasing the touch that was already leaving him.

“That’s better. Now, I’ve already had to remind you  _ twice _ of what you should be calling me, and you opened the cover to your slutty little valve without my permission-”

“T-that was an accident!”

“-interrupting me. Fifteen strokes should be a sufficient enough punishment, don’t you think? Five for each transgression.”

“Yes sir. T-thank you.”

“Count them for me.” He ordered before letting the crop crack over his left thigh, just enough to feel the sting.

“One.” This wasn’t so bad, he could do this! He steeled himself as another smack landed, this time on the other thigh and a little harder than the first. “Two.” Four more hits cracked over his thighs which he proudly counted out, the plating was heated with the abuse. A smile tugged at the corners of his lip plating, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Tarn. Neither did the lubricant leaking from behind Smokescreen’s valve cover.

“Are you enjoying yourself, pet?” His voice dripped with a sickly sweetness as he smoothed over his heated thighs with the flat of the crop, the soft leather soothed the sting somewhat.

“Yes sir!” He was quite happy, thinking that was the  _ correct _ answer.

“Hmmm…” Was the only response he received. Tarn migrated behind him, trailing the crop over his outer thigh and up his hip plating to his aft. “Naughty pets aren’t supposed to  _ enjoy _ their punishments. I suppose I was being too light on you then.” Smokescreen didn’t think he could feel dread and excitement all at once, but Tarn had definitely proved him wrong this night cycle.

A harsh crack of the crop landed over his aft, the Autobot’s whole frame lurched forward a bit and he yelped out “Seven!”. The crop landed over the same spot again before letting two more land on the other side of his rear.

_ Smack.  _ “N-nine!”

**_Smack!_** “AHha! TEN!” Smokescreen choked on a sob and shuddered lightly when the crop trailed over his aft, however this didn’t soothe the sting like it did for his thighs.

“Good job, pet.” Tarn cooed from behind, right next to his audial. He moved once more, stepping over his spread calves. “Only five more.” The crop slid down Smokescreen’s tied front, dipping down between his legs and stroked over his heated spike and valve coverings.

“O-ooh.. Please sir… n-not there.” Smokescreen trembled, though there was no real weight behind his words, he liked to play into these little scenes with Tarn. It was a thrill that he had never explored, or ever had the  _ chance _ to until now.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have interrupted me then. We would be done now if you hadn’t. Remember to count.” He warned before the crop landed over his spike housing cover. Smokey arched as much as his binds would allow and shook lightly, calling out the number with a shout. Tarn chuckled lightly and placed another hit, a bit lower this time. Another short shout came from the Autobot, there was a pause before he composed himself enough to speak.

“T-twelve.” He shuddered once he realized that the smacks to his modesty panels were not only painful, but sending little waves of charge over his frame. The next two hits came in rapid succession and he cried out, both in pleasure and pain, managing the next two numbers. His thighs trembled and he squirmed while the crop rubbed over his heated, dripping valve cover.

“Open.” Tarn commanded firmly and Smokescreen hesitated for a moment. “ _ Open _ . I won’t tell you again pet.” With that, his panel slid open and there was a little patter of lubricant that dripped onto the soft mat he was knelt on. Tarn clicked his glossa while he rubbed the leather crop over the soft lips of Smokescreen’s exposed valve, the Autobot squirmed and panted softly, the charge that had been building up in his frame was just  _ so close to spilling over _ . “Such a  **dirty little mech** , making a mess all over my table.” Tarn hummed and Smokescreen cried out as that magical voice stroked his spark in all the right ways. “Are you ready for the last one?” He asked as he stroked the flat of the crop over his anterior node, hinting at the location of the last strike.

“F-frag! Yes sir!” He hissed and bucked his hips a little.

In the next moment, three things happened. Tarn landed a harsh smack directly on Smokescreen’s anterior node, Smokescreen screamed out the final number, and an intense overload rocked his frame. He bucked against nothing, his valve calipers clenched and more lubricant gushed from him, coating his thighs and landing on the mat below him. Tarn watched in amusement as the last few aftershocks of his overload made his whole body twitch and shake. He set the crop off to the side to be forgotten and descended upon Smokescreen. His hand quickly moved between his thighs and he rubbed his thumb over the Autobot’s sensitive node before he had too much time to come down from the high of an overload.

“Oh.. OH! Frag! P-please sir… It- hah! It’s too sensitive.” He sobbed out his pleasure as Tarn refused to relent, his frame twitched and he bucked his hips against his hand. His charge built up quickly, sending tingling sparks racing over his protoform and beneath his plating.

“Good, I would hope so.” He rubbed a little faster over the brightly glowing nub, it pulsed in time with the thrum of his spark. “However, this time you’re not to overload until I say you may, do you understand?”

Smokescreen whimpered but nodded and swallowed thickly and moaned out again. Tarn prodded the tip of his pointer digit between Smokescreen’s valve lips, testing his calipers. The cycled open and tried to suck his digit in. “So eager aren’t we?” he chuckled and slowly moved his digit in and out of his greedy valve. The speedster whimpered again and rolled his hips, trying to force the digit deeper. Tarn was too keen to what he was trying to do and moved his hand so that the digit stayed at the same depth no matter what.

“Nnnngh,  _ come on _ …” He panted softly and let out a frustrated little growl. The tank chuckled lightly and stroked a hand over Smokescreen’s side soothingly while he pulled his finger away altogether. “N-no! I’m sorry, please sir… put it back in.” He begged and panted softly, mouth open and drooling slightly.

“No, I don’t think I will. However I do have something to fill that greedy little valve of yours.” The warmth of Tarn’s frame near his had faded as the Decepticon moved away. He squirmed again, testing the steel ropes that held him firmly in place. A few moments later, Tarn returned with a thick false spike attached to a harness that would hold it in place in his valve, and a remote. “Would you like to know what’s about to happen, pet?”

Smokescreen nodded enthusiastically. “Please sir.”

There was a soft  _ click _ and the false spike buzzed to life lowly, causing Smokescreen to jolt a little. His helm turned to where the noise sounded from and jolted again as the soft vibrations ran over his thighs while Tarn got him acquainted with the toy. “This false spike is going to be vibrating away in your greedy little valve. Then, I’m going to lower your table and you’re going to suck my spike.” 

Smokescreen didn’t need his vision to know that Tarn was smiling all the while, he could  _ hear _ it in his voice. A wanton little moan left the speedster and he licked his lips in anticipation. There was another soft  _ click _ and the buzzing stopped. Tarn slipped the spike between Smokescreen’s thighs and stroked it over his valve, using the existing lubricant and transfluid to ease the spike into him. It wasn’t nearly as thick as Tarn, but there was still a decent stretch and it would work to prepare him for the main event.

Smokescreen mewled and rocked his hips a little. “Yessss…” he hissed and arched. Once the false spike was fully seated inside him, Tarn used the straps of the harness and secured them around each thigh snugly, making sure the vibrating spike wouldn’t slip or be pushed out of his valve. Tarn took a moment to look over Smokescreen’s frame, watching for any signs that Smokescreen might not 100% be there.

“Color?”

“Green! Please Tarn, I need it… I need to overload again.” He rocked his hips, which didn’t really help to move much in his valve. Tarn chuckled softly and pressed a button on the remote in hand. The false spike in his valve buzzed to life on the lowest setting. It wasn’t enough to send him over the edge, but it felt wonderful against the nodes inside his valve. “Oh Frag… that’s… that’s really good!” He panted softly and squirmed a little. The table that was raised lowered via the console nearby and once Tarn was satisfied with the height, it slowed to a stop. His spike cover slid back and pressurized. His equipment was perfectly proportional to his frame size, a perk of having a commissioned body.

His spike didn’t have any fancy mods like some mecha liked to get. He was a mech of simple tastes. A Prince Albert through the head of his spike and 5 barbels running along the underside of his length were all the modifications he needed. His other berth partners certainly didn’t complain about it.

He presented his spike to Smokescreen and the squirming Autobot wrapped his lips around the tip without hesitation, moaning over it as his squirming forced the false spike against a sensitive node. Tarn let out a moan of his own, enjoying the warmth and wetness of his mouth. “Mmh, that’s it pretty mech.” He praised and stroked over Smokescreen’s helm with his free hand while the other thumbed over the wheeled control of the remote in hand. He slowly turned up the vibrations in Smokescreen’s valve. The bound mech moaned louder and started to bob his helm over Tarn’s spike, only able to fit half of it into his mouth. Tarn made up for his shortcomings by stroking over the rest of his spike in tandem with Smokey’s bobbing helm. Smokescreen pulled off his spike and shifted a little so he could lick along the length of it, swirling his glossa over each barbell that went through the organ. He cried out as Tarn turned up the vibrations a little more.

“S-sir please… may I overload?” He rocked his hips as if he were in Tarn’s lap with his spike in him, rather than the false one.

“Not yet.” Tarn hummed and stroked over his spike.

“I… I can’t hold it much longer…” Smokescreen sobbed out. Tarn looked over him for a moment. He was rather thankful for the blindfold, he could only imagine what kind of expression Smokescreen made with it off. 

“Mouth back on my spike pet. I didn’t say you could stop.” He used his free hand to guide Smokescreen back to his spike. Smokescreen groaned and wrapped his mouth around him again, taking him as far as he could, pushing against the back of his throat and making him gag a little. Tears pricked at the corners of his optics and were blotted away by the silk blindfold. “That’s it, just like that.” Tarn purred and let his optics offline for just a moment, relishing in the sensation. Tarn’s charge built slowly, with half the stimuli on his spike, he knew he wouldn’t overload with Smokescreen’s mouth alone.

“Keep your mouth on me.  **Overload pet** .” His voice licked at Smokescreen’s spark while Tarn turned the vibrations in his valve on high. The combination of the two rocked Smokescreen into a powerful overload. His scream of pleasure was muffled by the thick spike in his mouth. Tarn moaned in tandem, it felt damn good and he was loath to pull his spike free of his hot intake, but he had other plans for Smokescreen. He pulled his spike free of Smokescreen’s mouth but left the false spike buzzing away violently in his valve. Smokescreen’s whole frame trembled and he sputtered a little.

“ _ R-red _ …”

If Tarn hadn’t been as attentive as he was, it would have been missed. The vibrations in Smokescreen’s valve immediately stopped and Tarn was at his side, carefully soothing over his helm after removing the blindfold. He hummed softly, letting the soft, dulcet tones soothe the speedster.

“Talk to me Smokescreen.” He whispered against his helm. 

“I… it… it was just a little too much… I’m sorry.” He felt a little ridiculous for using the stoplights, he had wanted this after all.

“Shh, you don’t need to apologize.” Tarn stroked over his chassis before slipping down to his hips and undoing the straps of the false spike’s harness. Gently, he pulled it out of Smokey’s valve and set it aside to be taken care of later.

“D-do we have to stop altogether now that I said ‘red’?” He looked to Tarn, his expression was a bit hopeful, but also worried. 

“Do you _want_ to stop altogether?” He asked, tilting his helm. Smokescreen thought for a moment and shook his helm vigorously. “Do you want me to untie you and frag you?” He asked as a follow up. Smokescreen nodded just as vigorously.

“Please, sir.”

“‘Tarn’, now that the scene is over.” He instructed.

“Please, Tarn.”

The tank chuckled softly and started to untie him, starting with his arms. He tossed the length of rope away and helped Smokescreen’s arms to his sides to make sure there was no damage to the shoulder joint from the prolonged position. Once Smokescreen was free from all the rope, Tarn gently picked him up and took him over to the berth. He laid him back on the plush surface and settled between his thighs in one fluid motion. He slipped a hand between his legs and slipped two digits into him to test his calipers, they were still relatively relaxed. He tested at the entrance with a third digit and carefully pushed in the three. Smokescreen moaned and clutched at Tarn’s back, his legs splayed apart. Once he was satisfied with his preparations, he adjusted himself and pressed the head of his thick spike against Smokescreen’s valve. The fingers before helped with the initial stretch, but Tarn was much more girthy than three digits. Smokescreen wrapped his legs around his waist and rutted his hips up, moaning out softly. Tarn hissed at the tightness of Smokescreen’s valve. After a bit of rutting from both of them, Tarn was fully seated inside and started up shallow little thrusts.

“Ah Frag… You’re so… so big…” he arched up into Tarn’s frame and let out a wanton little moan against Tarn’s audial. The tank breathed out and groaned. Once the initial tightness of Smokey’s valve had dispersed, he started up a steady pace, nearly pulling all the way out before slowly plunging his way back into his valve. Smokescreen let out low guttural moans at each thrust. Tarn tilted his helm and captured the speedster’s lips with his own in a heated kiss, he used his other hand to tilt Smokescreen’s hips up slightly.

The tank continued his pace for a few more moments before picking up speed. Smokescreen cried out as his ceiling node was hit directly on each thrust with the new angle.

“Oh! Oh Right there! Don’t stop!” He cried out and his thighs trembled. Tarn had no problem complying, he even redoubled his efforts. “I… I’m so close Tarn… please.” he begged and thrashed against him a little. Tarn nodded, between the sight of Smokescreen coming undone under him, the smell of ozone burning through the air, and the sound from the both of them, Tarn was nearly at his limit. With a few more rough, deep thrusts Smokescreen was sent over the edge. His valve clamped down around Tarn’s spike as his third overload of the night washed over his frame. Tarn wasn’t too far behind him, the flutters of supple valve walls had him crashing into his overload. He spilled his silvery transfluid deep inside him and his thrust became more erratic.

There were a few moment’s of pulsing excess charge that dispersed on their own. Tarn slowly and carefully pulled his spike free of Smokescreen’s valve, it quickly depressurized and his spike cover closed once again. He laid to the side of the blissed out white speedster and pulled him into his arms, whispering sweet nothings to him and stroking over his frame.

“You did so well for me Smokescreen,” He purred after Smokescreen started to come back to reality, “Did you enjoy yourself.”

“Mmnh frag yeah I did…” He mumbled tiredly and hid his face in Tarn’s chassis. “We should do that again.” He slurred.

“Sleep.” Tarn chuckled softly and kissed the side of his helm, still stroking over his back. It didn’t take much coaxing for Smokescreen to fall into a deep recharge. Tarn smiled and settled with the speedster against him, allowing himself some rest as well.


End file.
